Made of Silk
by QueenPotatos
Summary: Mitoka drabble. Implying Hashi/Mada. Post VoTE fight.


She had never thought it would end like this.

She had always had a sort of religious respect for her cousin's wife. She didn't know why, but Mito just had that kind of warm aura that made you want to be close to her, in a surprisingly non-selfish way; it was noticeable from the moment she had seen her standing next to Hashirama, with that bright smile on her face, just before they had said 'yes' to each other.

The Senju clan was filled with many soldiers and young children; women often died early during delivery, ultimately serving their sole purpose of giving their husbands new tools for war. There was distinct lack of a feminine presence that Mito could rely on, and it was only inevitable that she and Toka would soon become close.

Toka especially loved to comb that ginger hair she loved so much at night. God, she would have killed for those beautiful locks. They were so soft, just like silk, and it seemed she could do every single fantastic hairdo she liked! If it had been anyone other than Mito, Toka would have been jealous. So, she'd just comb her hair in silent adoration.

She hadn't noticed that her adoration had turned into love until the night Mito's warm aura and true smile had disappeared.

Toka had heard some noise from upstairs; it had been coming from Mito's room – the marital room. Some years had passed since her marriage, and a child was born, too; but the second was slow to come. It never seemed to bother her, and Mito would never talk about it, so she assumed it was not much of an issue. Mito had always seemed quite content with her little daughter – Toka was so sad she didn't have her mom's long ginger hair – and didn't think they needed another heir.

Everything was already so peaceful; women didn't need to be those shinobi factories anymore, and to be honest, Toka admired her for choosing the path that she did. Mito chose to believe in Peace – in Hashirama's dream – and had the strength to confront peoples' prejudices.

But Toka had never known that the truth, the reason for never having that second child, was far from being that glorious.

"It has always been him!" Mito's gorgeous ginger hair was in a terrible mess this time; Toka had trouble brushing the comb to the tips of the silky strands. She tried to sympathize with her, but couldn't find the words to calm her down. Toka – along with everyone else, including Mito – had long known who Hashirama had chosen back then, and it had not been Mito. It had never been her.

It had always been him all along.

"I'm so sorry...I shouldn't be...I mean, I knew that before I married him-"

That's when Toka realized she didn't feel bad for her. In fact, she was feeling...happy. Happy about Mito's misery. If Hashirama was making her so sad, then maybe...maybe...

The comb dropped from her hand at the realization.

"Toka...what's wrong? Is everything alright?"

How could Mito look so graceful? Her husband was in love with a dead man, who had been an enemy to the village – and maybe to the entire shinobi world, itself – and everybody knew about it; but here she was, proud and unharmed, weathering the elements and the nasty looks people gave her behind her back, magnificent as ever. She was always so good at hiding her misfortune.

But eventually she'd need to free herself from it all.

"You don't always have to be strong – it's okay to just sit down and cry. Nobody would blame you...at least I won't. I would have gone crazy long ago if I was in your shoes."

Toka held her in her arms that night. She thought the action was rather stupid and regretted it at first, but then Mito started to hold her in return. So Toka spent the night stroking her hair while they laid on the futon, and pretended not to hear her silent sobbing.

When the first rays of sunshine fell upon her face, she felt like a completely different person. She felt at peace; Mito's warm aura was back once again, and it enveloped her like a mother would do with her child, and knowing that Toka had been responsible for its return made her feel blissfully happy.

She would have never asked for so much.

That morning, before going back to Hashirama's bed, Mito had kissed her on the lips and whispered some words of goodbye. But the words were lost on Toka, as she'd blanked out the moment she'd felt those soft pink lips on hers, and then wondered if Mito's whole body was made of silk.


End file.
